


A Little Help

by goth_on_ham



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Spanking, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 00:18:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12200181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goth_on_ham/pseuds/goth_on_ham
Summary: Jim catches Oswald sneaking around the GCPD. Again. He says he is just trying to help but Jim has had enough of his meddling. Set in S1.





	A Little Help

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a couple of months ago but never got round to posting it.

Jim had told Oswald not to bother him at work. He had said he wasn't welcome there. He had thought he made it perfectly clear that he didn't need or want his help, yet Oswald persisted. Jim couldn't understand it. It was like Oswald wanted to annoy him. Or maybe he genuinely thought that if he helped him in a case, Jim would go back on his previous stance.

Either way, when Jim caught Oswald sneaking around in the records room, he was less than pleased.

Oswald flinched when he saw Jim and held up his hands up in a vain attempt to stop the detective from advancing any further. When that failed to deter him, he tried begging instead. “Jim, please don't do this! I can explain!” 

“I told you what would happen if I caught you sneaking around here again.” Jim said in response to his plea, and rolled up his sleeves.

It had been a ridiculous threat, almost a joke, but when he had made it, Oswald's eyes had grown so wide and he had gotten so nervous that Jim thought it might just work as a deterrent on the slippery little mobster. It had become painfully apparent that mere talking wasn't working.

“I was only trying to help!” He whined desperately.

Jim paused, and for a moment, Oswald looked hopeful. It didn't last long. Jim’s arm shot out, and he grabbed Oswald's wrist in a vice like grip. The smaller man squeaked in distress.

“Jim!” He pleaded, with greater urgency, as the detective marched him over to the chair that sat against the far wall of the room. “I beseech you, can't we talk about this?”

“You mean like we did the first dozen times?” Jim yanked him over his lap and wrapped an arm around his waist. 

“It was three times, at most!”

“My point stands.”

“Please!”

“Quiet.” Jim raised his arm up high, then brought his hand down onto the centre of Oswald's ass with a satisfying smack. He felt him tense, but there was no yelp. The next time, he laid it down significantly harder.

“Ow!” Oswald bucked, forcing Jim to grip onto him tighter. 

Maybe that had been a bit too hard. Although it was difficult to tell.

He smacked him again, with similar force, and Oswald wailed miserably. “Stop! Please!”

“You’re overreacting.” He said, in part to reassure himself. 

Two more swats, Oswald squirmed as he bemoaned the embarrassing position he had gotten himself into. He hadn't stopped since Jim had started, it was like he actually thought he might be able to wriggle off of his thighs and make his escape. It was almost cute.

Oswald cried out as Jim’s palm hit its target once more. He tried another strategy. Flattery. “You're better than this Jim! You shouldn't resort to such, such brutalism!” 

Jim held back a smirk. “You overestimate me.” 

He gave him another hearty slap, and Oswald yipped and jumped, and Jim concluded that while they were clearly having an impact, they might be a little too much. He wanted to deter the snitch from sticking his nose into police business, but he didn't want him to leave bruised and limping worse than usual.

Jim rolled up the back of Oswald's coat and when he caught sight of them, he unclipped the back of his suspenders. Then he reached around and unclipped the front. Oswald was evidently nervous. Jim could feel him trembling against him. 

“Please don't,” He requested, more meekly than before. 

Jim hesitated. He didn't much like Oswald sounding so scared of him. At least, not when it seemed genuine.

“I don't want to injure you.” He explained. “And you're making a worrying amount of noise.”

Oswald quietened, and unless he was mistaken, Jim could have sworn it was a moody sort of quiet. Like he was insulted at Jim pointing it out.

“Well it hurts.”

Definitely a moody quiet.

Jim tugged down his pants. He decided to allow Oswald a little dignity and kept his underwear on. However, he did tug it up a bit to check for any marks that had been left. 

Oswald buried his face into his hands as he did this, mumbling something about how mortified he was, but Jim ignored it. 

He was too busy observing that Oswald's cheeks, despite his caterwauling, were barely pink. 

Either he had an unbelievably low pain threshold, or he had been deliberately exaggerating. Jim was inclined to believe the latter. 

“I’m going to give you twenty, but if I catch you here again without permission, I’ll double it.” He told him, his voice as stern as he could make it. It was almost parental. Oswald whimpered in response.

He wasn't sure if twenty was enough or if it was too much. Oswald had been writhing around before they even reached ten, but Jim decided that had probably (at least partly) been him exaggerating.

“Twenty?” Oswald sounded like he thought it was too many. Like it was practically a death sentence.

“Twenty.” Jim confirmed, raising his hand up.

“Isn't six the traditional amount?” He whined, his hips wiggling around in a way that Jim thought should have been far less distracting than it was.

“Only with a cane, and I don't carry one of those around with me.” He slapped Oswald on the ass before he had the chance to make any other complaints, comments, or suggestions.

The sound was sharper than before, even if the thin cotton of his briefs padded the impact slightly. From the way Oswald yelped, they didn't offer much protection.

Jim kept count in his head as he spanked him on the seat of his underwear. His rhythm was steady, and by the time they were halfway through Oswald was squirming significantly enough for it to be a bother.

“Do you want me to pull your underwear down as well?” Jim asked, clipping him on the left ass cheek, where his thigh met his butt and the skin was bare. 

Oswald shook his head vigorously, although his wriggling did not cease. “No!”

“Then behave yourself.” He ordered.

For the last ten swats, he focussed his attention to the lower portion of Oswald's ass. That was the part he would be sitting on. He wanted to make sure this stuck with Oswald, so he increased the force a little. His hand left both sides of his ass a rosy pink, as well as Oswald sniffling.

“I really was trying to be helpful, Jim.” The smaller man mumbled afterwards, and he sounded so sorry for himself that Jim was left with an uneasy feeling in his gut.

He could believe that Oswald had been attempting to aide him in his own way, for some reason he had decided they were friends. But he also had no doubt that Oswald knew he'd been doing wrong by sneaking into the GCPD to look for information. There was no way he couldn't know that. Jim had told him as much on multiple occasions.

He gave his ass one last, light pat. “Next time, ask.”

As Oswald hadn't stopped whimpering yet, Jim rubbed a hand over his back in a manner he hoped might calm him a little.

He was dismayed when it brought on more weeping.

He didn't know what to do. He wasn't used to having grown men crying over his lap. Or anyone for that matter. He rubbed his back a little more firmly. 

Clearing his throat, he muttered out an awkward, “There, there.” 

To his relief, that seemed to work. Gradually, Oswald's sniffling subsided and Jim felt like he could breathe again.

He helped Oswald to his feet. What he said next felt like a stupid question, but he asked it anyway. “Are you alright?”

Oswald nodded with a loud sniff. He met Jim’s eyes for a second, then quickly looked downwards. Jim wasn't sure if it was because of the crying or the embarrassment, but Oswald blushing. Like the sight of Oswald’s ass squirming and writhing over his lap, it was far more adorable than it had any right to be.

Jim rubbed the back of his neck. He could feel his own face growing hot, so he was grateful Oswald's eyes were avoiding him. “Right. Good. Let's go then.”

He took Oswald by the arm and accompanied him upstairs and to the exit. Despite everything, part of him didn't entirely trust Oswald to leave if he didn't make sure of it.

As they passed the bullpen, Jim saw Harvey staring at them in bemusement. His colleague gave him a look that seemed to express something along the lines of, 'What the hell?’

Jim returned the look with one that said, 'It’s a long story.’


End file.
